Roman: Prologue
by Mad-Hamlet
Summary: Janus Was Healed. But Eros Died. Yet the Walls of Terminus Were Sundered. Prologue to the Dianna Wears Read. Written a long time ago, reposted here by request.
1. Janus Was Healed

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr...arrgh)

Warning: I offer this here and now. You know who I am(Or you should, I'm so likeable) and you know what I do(Or you should, it's so likeable) either way, I say now. The Gloves are Off.

Be prepared.

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

God is a Man

'The Devil You Know'

-Face to Face

A Sequel to-

Janus was Healed...

...But Eros Died

I wake up a long time before she does. The sun was still coming up when I was wrested away from my dreams. I always wake up early. Despite the working hours of long days and longer nights, I always wake up early. When things are really hard I blame whatever it was that chose me for this role. I think that it...they...want me to have as little peace as possible. Normalcy is not an option, relationships..the idea is laughable. They also go after any rest I might have, any escapes I might aquire from dreaming. That's what I think, they don't want me to dream much. I get just enough rest to be fully functional and then I wake up. No additional slumber, no respite. Just enough. When things are all mean and terrible I honestly believe that that's why I always wake up early. It's probably for the best, that way I don't get too attached to my dreams. It's hard to do that if you don't have many.

When things are normal, relativly, I just think I'm an early riser.

Honest.

I've woken up before her, though I haven't moved. Not an inch. A leaf was blown free from the branches about ten minutes ago and it landed on my face. It rests on my cheek right now, wobbling as small breezes flow over it, me,us. It itches but I don't move to brush it off, to scratch the itch. I just stay still. I let her sleep, as long as she doesn't wake up I don't have to do what I know is right. I can put it off, just a little longer.

If I roll my eyes as far as I can I can see the blood on her face. I'm lying fetal, with my head in her lap, the blood on my hands is hard to miss. It's sorta in my face. It's on my face too. I can't see it but I can feel it crack and flake off in the morning rays.

Blood. She's bloody. I'm bloody. We're bloody.

The tip of my tounge snakes out and I lick a bit of the dried stuff off and taste it. It, my tongue, does it by itself. I didn't mean too. Really. I don't mean to close my eyes and lick my lips a second time. I don't aknowledge the tingle running along my spin. I don't enjoy it. I really don't. I don't. Not at all.

It's blood. Stolen blood taken by ...things. Unatural, twisted mockeries of life, pantomiming the living. They don't deserve to exist they have no place here, in this world. Someone has to fight them, to destory them and that's me. I try and live, but I'm just pantomiming that like they do. I look at Willow again.

She's covered in blood too. Her face, along her jaw, smeared across her cheeks but she's smiling. Leaning against the tree, my head in her lap, eyes closed. She's smiling. I have no place in her world.

It's my fault that she's ...stained. This time she just happened to be around; what about next time? It could be them or.. Control. We have to have control. Always, always, have control. If we lose control it might not be them who makes Willow bloody; it might...

I've thought this over carefully. This is the right way, it's not the painless way because there is no such thing. It's what has to be done. I believe that. I have to.

Okay Summers. Let's do it.

C'mon.

Move.

I could let her sleep for a few minutes longer.

Just a little more time. What's the harm in that?

The sun finishes rising above the horizon. The light looks the color of peaches. Birds have woken up, starting their day. Involving food and young, and their mates. Mama bird and Papa bird, getting up together and flying around, looking for food. Food for their little ones.

A nice Disney thing. Cute family of birds.

I think I hate them.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see a squirrel poking its head out of a whole in a tree, wondering if it now is a good time to start looking for nuts and other goodies. A small pool of light has managed to work its way through the leaves in the branches. It's resting on Willow's lap. Right where my hands are too. It's warming my hands. My hands are warm in the sunlight.

My hands are warm; only my hands.

I stretch carefully, roll my head and groan just loud enough. With a grossley exagerated yawn I sit up. As I move the ground snaps and rustles, dead leaves crackling and shiftering underneath my weight. I put extra 'oomph' behind the gesture when I lean back, resting my weight on my elbows. I make sure one of them bumps into her leg in a not so subtle nudge.

"Mmmmm..." She moans and shifts her head. Her eyelashes begin to flutter and I can see her eyes moving underneath. Here it comes, we've shared a bedroom so long I know her sleeping habits like ..well..pretty well.

"Nnnoooooo.." She whines. "Don' wanna be a morning person."

Almost the same statement. Every morning. She's like clockwork.

Making sure I'm not looking at her I put my hand to my head, as if I have a headache.

"Hey." I say quietly.

"Mmm...'morning." Willow groans. "How you feeling?"

"Like I got hit with a truck. Not by, with. Somebody picked up a truck, and beat me on the head with it repeatedly. What happened last night?"

"What?" I hear her ask. I can tell, from her voice, how shocked she is. The question was breathless and weak, like someone saying something while getting punched in the gut. I grit my teeth while clenching my hands into fists. The pain of my nails biting into my palms helps me focus. I put an embarassed smile behind my response.

"I mean, what happened? Cause I don't remember a thing. Last thing I recall was..a bar I think." I sniff. "Why do I smell like a roasted marshmellow? My hands feel caked, what the heck is th-" I let my voice catch.

This part is really going to be hard. Acting surprised.

"OhMyGOD!" I shriek, holding my hands in front of my face. "This is blood? What happened? How did..did I hurt anybody? Oh God! What have I ..what's happening?"

I feel her hand on my shoulder, she's trying to comfort me.

"Buffy, shhhh..." She says quietly. I still have my back to her. Now this will be really hard.

Acting horrified.

I turn to look at her, and open my eyes real wide. Like I'm seeing her bloody face for the first time. I gotta make it look good.

"Willow." I whisper. "Your..your face...what happened?"

"What?" She says again, bringing and hand to cheek, brushing off some flakes of dried blood.

"What happened Willow?" I demand. "What..where did this all come from? My hands are coated with blood, your face...your.."

Now I brush my fingers against my lips, I feel some blood I missed crumble underneath my touch. "My..my face." I breathe. I don't try and make my voice sound trembley, that would definetly give the game away.

"I'm covered, drenched...soaked..." I take in deep breaths, wonder if I fake it too well, will I actually start hyperventilating? Would certainly lend authenticity to the performance. "...in blood."

I look at her. I look Willow in the eyes. She's hurting. She's hurting terribly, I can see it. Oh I so much want to make it better. It would be so easy, so easy to just take her in my arms, repeat the kiss from last night. We could laugh it off. Some sort of fogginess of the ol' brain cells and now I remember everything. How terrible it was, how funny it was, how...how wonderful it was. We could go back to the wonderful. We could go back to it and never leave.

No! It wouldn't be wonderful. Yes it would; but it would be taken from us. Ripped, stolen, beaten, crushed. Used against us. It's better to just let..just let..let it die. It's better.

Say that again Summers. Say that over and over again. Maybe it'll be be true eventually.

Willow is going numb. Her features are setting into her flat face. She's hiding herself. Trying to esacpe. She's gotten so good at that. I'll make it easier. I'll provide a distraction.

"Willow!" I say fiercly, slamming my palms into the tree trunk on either side of her head. "We're waking up in the middle of the woods. I look like I just ran through a butchers shop that was on fire, you look like an extra from the next Hellraiser movie. Now I don't know what's going on here-" I look away from her, I look down at my lap. I take several deep breaths, act hurt and upset. It's easy. Far easier than I thought it would be. Maybe because I am hurt and upset, though not for the reasons I'm giving. "You know what happened. Please. Please Willow. I'm scared. Tell me what happened."

I watch her carefully. I watch her blink rapildy, she's trying not to cry. Pulls it off too. I made her cry. I made her want to cry. I made Willow cry and it's all my fault and I can't even ask her to trust me, because I'm lying to her. I'm doing this all on purpose. To my best friend! To ..to..I love her.

It's better this way. No weaknesses, no worries. No..no chinks in my armour.

"Okay Buffy." she says with diffilculty. Her voice sounds husky, like something is stuck in her throat. Probably a sob. I know how she feels. "Okay. I'll tell you what happened. Sit back. This is going to take a while."

"You're okay?" I press. "I..I didn't hurt you did I?"

Her eyes start a bit. Of course I hurt her, not in the way the question implies but I hurt her. Just now. My fault. On purpose. My fault. It's for the best.

"No." She says quietly, a whisper. Her eyes flicker to her lap where her fingers are clenched together so tight her knuckles are white. I pretend not to notice.

"No you didn't hurt me." She sighs. "Okay, um... you were at that bar drinking beer with some guys..."

She tells me what happened. She tries to gloss over the vamp kills but I make her tell me everything. To explain all the blood on my face, my clothes, underneath my nails and between my teeth.

"Uh..well.." She stammers. "Those vampires? Uh.."

"I didn't have a stake did I." I say flatly. I run my fingers through the leaf cover on the ground. Taking comfort from the quiet rustle.

"No." She says almost shamefully. "You used your bare hands."

Willow twists her fingers in her lap, playing with them, studying them intently. I know why. She went through this last night. Comforting me when I had realised what I had done and been terrified by it. At the violence, at the blood, at how much I had relished every second of it. The combat, the screams, the feral, animalistic fury and purity of that act.

A tingle rushes along my spine and my tougue wants to lick my lips again in search of more blood, I can feel the urge. I fight it. There isn't any more anyway. I licked it all off. I could lick her face. That would solve all the problems. I'd love her, have her and get ..get...

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This is why I'm doing this. This is why I'm putting us through this. Because..Oh God.

"I enjoyed it."

"Well.." She stammers. Shaking her head slightly, she shrugs. "At first yeah. But not afterwards. I mean, well, you realised and were really horrified. Upset an' everything. You took off at warp speed, I had to chase you." She smiles slightly. "That wasn't easy. Thought I had busted a lung."

I smile back at her.

"So you caught up with me?" I ask.

"Mmmhmm." She nods looking away again. "At this tree. Used a little magic to track you down." She looks up the trunk. "See? You can still make out the..er...handprints where you climbed up."

She sighs again. "So I..er..found you and talked to you for a bit. Tried to calm you down, told you that you were still you. That I liked you and that it didn't matter what you did what you did. Because..well..because.."

'You love me.' My mind fills in. I try not to flinch.

"... you're my best friend!" She finishes with a horribly painted on smile. I don't notice it. I don't let myself notice it. I don't notice the forced lips pulled back over teeth, or the shimmer in her eyes. I don't..I won't.. I won't see them!

"And, well, I guess you believe me cause you came out of the tree, and..uh..well, we fell asleep." She finishes lamely. Looking back at her hands. I don't say anything for a while. We just sit in silence. Eventually she pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them.

"Cold." She mumbles from behind her knees as way of explination.

"Me too." I reply. On the inside and the outside, but I leave that part unsaid.

We sit for a while longer.

"How'd all that blood get on your face?" I ask. Finally. She jumps a bit.

"What? Oh. This?" She giggles a bit, scratching some of the dried blood off with her fingernails. "You..er..well when you came out of the tree you..uh..got kinda frisky."

"Frisky?" I open my eyes real wide and say the word slowly. Filling it with unsaid dread.

"God Willow, I didn't kiss you did I?"

"What? No no..Ha ha ha ha.." she says. She says 'ha ha ha', doesn't actually laugh. She SAYS it.

Willow.

I...

I...

"No no, of course not." Willow somehow manages to turn a sob into a hiccup. A sound being twisted sideways, forced and wrenched asunder than swallowed. "That ..that would be silly wouldn't it. You kissing me I mean. Gah, no..silly."

"Akward." I answer.

"Very." She nods studying her kneecaps. She's blinking about twice every second.

"You..uh..just pushed me over and sniffed my neck a bit." Willow says. Sliding a fingertip around and around on her kneecap. Not looking at me. Watching her finger go round and round.

"That's all Buffy. Just...just sniffed my neck a bit."

"Sniffed your neck?" I ask with a grin. I'm trying to lighten the situation. I figure if I can manage to get her going on autopilot it might hurt less. Then I realise that autopilot requires the events to have actually happened and since they didn't, it probably won't happen.

Willow smiles back at me tentativly. "Yeah. Just a little sniffin' and you curled up in my lap and went to sleep. I did too." She finishes with a shrug.

"Were you scared?" I ask her quietly.

"Of you?" Willow's brow furrows a bit. She starts biting at her lower lip, thinking. "I...think I should have been." She finally replies. "But I wasn't."

"I was ..I was some sort of bloodthirsty animal." I protest weakly. This would be so much easier if I could feel guilty about something.

She smiles at me softly and her smile reaches her eyes. "No." she smiles wider. "Not an animal, just a very thorough protector. That's why I wasn't afraid, I'll never be afraid of you."

My heart is pounding so hard and the walls over it are buckling. Love is not soft, it's hard, strong and sharp. Mine is begining to break me down, to take me over, to grab her and hold her close, kiss her, love her, be with her and I can't let that happen. I just can't. She's doing this so easily too. She doesn't even know it but just by being Willow, she's breaking me down.

I won't let this happen.

She deserves better.

I stand up and brush my pant legs off. "C'mon." I say holding out my hand to her. "There's a hot shower calling my name and I don't want to miss it."

Wordlessly she accepts my hand and I pull her to her feet, then we turn and head back for the campus.

The walk is long and silent, I let Willow act as the guide since I'm supposed to not remember how I got where I am. We take the long way home, walking around the park.

"Is that where...uh..Is that where the vamps were?" I ask pointing to one of the iron fences marking the boundries of the park.

Willow simply nods and heads off in the opposite direction expecting me to follow.

I know Willow. She...is..was? my best friend. She doesn't give her heart easily but last night she gave it to me. She didn't know how I'd respond, she didn't know whether I would respond in kind or turn my back on her. She took all the risks. Willow was incredibly brave last night and thought she had won.

Now I'm taking that away from her.

She's doing a good job of hiding it. Her back is straight, her head held high walking with a brisk, sure, step. Like everything is right with the world. The rising sun burns on the horizon in front of her, the light giving her hair a look of true flame. She pauses, stretches her arms over her head and arches her back. There's a quiet 'crick' sound of bones and muscle sliding back into place and she resumes her pace; just a little ahead of me. I think she's humming a tune.

Willow won't say anything about what happened last night. I'm sure of it. Not that she doesn't want too but she's not that brave. She did it once, she couldn't do it again. She's already lied about what really happened and that will add to her inability to say anything. Also I'm not acting in any way that could lead her to..think..that maybe..she could. Being..I'm being..good ol Buddy Buffy. There's nothing here..for...for her to see..maybe Lover Buffy.

I will not feel that tingle in my eyes. I will not aknowledge the itch behind my lids. I will not cry.

Even though I'm using what I know of her against her. Even though I'm lying right in her face, depending on her insecuritues and weaknesses in my favor. Even though I'm commiting crimes against someone I love I will not cry. I'm going to force myself to live a lie, and I will do it with a smile on my face.

Why?

The consequences of what could happen ...I.. no. There will be no such things happening; I won't let them. I'll protect her. I'll always protect her and doing these things, these monstrous things, will make it that much easier.

Yeah, that's it Slayer, justify what you're doing. C'mon, let's do it. Give it your best shot. Oh I've got one, yeah, we'll like this one. Ahem..'You love Willow so much, that you're not going to love her'.

We reach the dorms, it's still too early for anyone to be up, not that many would be with it being a saturday morning. We're careful anyway. Darting up the stairs, around the corner into our room...which looks pretty messed up.

I take in the chaos that my comunion with the wild side rought. The television knocked off the shelf, the shelf itself scattered with ...stuff. Clothes all over the floor, if those torn rags can still be considered clothes and... oh nuts.

"I'd forgotten about those." I mumble taking in my 'cave paintings'. It slips out, quiet, but slips out before I can realise I'm saying it.

Oh hell. Oh no. Oh God. Oh ..Oh...FUCK!

If she heard me, if Willow overheard, no...no she couldn't of, she's next to her bed, picking up some of my mess. Bent over, busy, humming to herself, still humming. Humming with the birds that are singing outside. The clock radio starts beeping, I jump. Willow nonchalantly reaches over and flicks it off because we're already up n'everything. She's still humming.

"You say something Buffy?" She turns and looks at me. There's ..something..no. No, just my imagination. She's speaking normally.

I force a smile to my face. I better get used to doing this. Gesturing in the direction of the 'artwork' I roll my eyes. "Nothing important. Just noticing my contributions to the art world."

She glances at the 'paintings' and than looks away. "Oh." She replies, bending back over to resume picking apart the assorted chaos.

"Yeah." I whisper to myself behind her. "Oh."

She doesn't respond.

I stare at her for a bit. She's bent over, on her knees, reaching under her bed trying to grab something. Her eyes are squeesed shut in the effort. Whatever it is is probably just out of reach. Isn't that always the way?

"Uh..listen, I'm going to grab a quick shower, get all this..uh..stuff offa me okay?" I say. I can't believe how lame I sound. Like I'm asking her for permission. I even shrug and look away from her. Not that she can see me with her eyes squeezed shut.

"Okay." She mumbles, now her teeth are clenched. "I'll just..stay here..c'mon you little..and try and get this..almost got it..sock."

I grab my toiletries, towel, bathrobe and various soaps. "So..I'll..just be right back then." I mumur heading for the door.

"Mmmhmm." Willow replies.

The water is hot and clean as it pours from the showerhead. As it runs off my body it turns red, and brown. It's still hot but no longer clean as it twirls down the drain.

I take the shower gel, squeese a dollop onto my sponge and wash my skin clean. I do it effectivly and without thought. All my thoughts are inside. Fighting. Reinforcing new walls and defenses. I cannot let the pain out. I cannot let the want out, I cannot let the need out, I cannot let the tears out. I cannot let the love out.

Lock it away. Lock it away. Lock it away now.

Music. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Yeah, think about that.

Lock it away

Lock it away

Lock it away now.

Okay, so I'm add libing. Never like them much anyway.

Now to do the hair. Dirt goes out, blood goes out, grime goes out.

Two in One shampoo. Condition and clean. How effecient.

Lie to, hurt, betray, the one person you love to protect them.

How effecient.

Okay. All done.

Rinse.

The water is hot and clean as it pours from the showerhead. As it runs off my body it stays clear; free of muck and grime and blood. It's still hot but no longer clean as it twirls down the drain.

I dry off, put on my robe. Stand in front of the mirror. Start to comb my hair. Let it drip dry today. No need to be fancy. Just going to be normal looking Buffy today. No need to make myself look extra nice. No need to surprise a special someone with extra effort on my own appearence.  
Nope. None at all.

It rattles in it's cage. Deep in my mind. Roars and screams. Claws at the bars trying to force its way free. Won't be denied, will not be refused. Primal, all powerful, destroyer of empires, heros, demons, dynasties, families, children...

No. Don't let it out. Don't aknoweldge it. Focus on the hair. Think about brushing your hair.

That's it. Easy, long, comfortable strokes. Feel the bristles on your scalp? See the straight, orderly rows in your hair. Long and straight and clean. Isn't that nice? Isn't that right?

I put the brush on the edge of the sink and look at myself.

Turn my head slowly to the left, watch my eyes follow me in the mirror. Nope, no lines there. Turn it back the other way, keep my eyes locked with my reflection. Face it directly.

Can't tell can you Mr. Mirror. Can't see the storm inside can you. Nope, all's quiet on the western front yes? No monster inside you screaming in your head is there. No feelings threatening to burst free, tear down your world. No tears ready to flood outwards and never stop. Nothing at all here is there. Just the monster in the mirror. Us.

I open my mouth. My lips part and I can feel the cool air whipping over my lips as I breath. I close it again. Don't say it. Bad to say it. Hurt more, not less. Can't say it. Won't say it.

"I love you too Willow." My reflection echoes silently back to me.

Just one. I'll say it just this once. Universe now knows. Just the universe; and her. The Monster in the mirror. If she's still there after I head out the bathroom door I don't know. It's okay though, I have my own monster on the inside.

"Okay Will. Showers all yours." I toss my wet towel with the soaps and stuff wrapped inside at my bed and delibratly miss. It hits the floor with a thud. "Clean that up later." I give it a little jump and butt bounce on my mattress. Can't force laughter. Have to practice on that. I settle for a lazy smile.

Then I notice her.

"Will?"

She's sitting in the corner, on her bed. Knees drawn to her chest, head resting on her knees. She has her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

"Willow?" I stand back up and start to cross the space between our bed. "You okay?"

"I'm not stupid." Her voice is muffled a bit by her knees but I hear her plain as day.

I freeze. Not moving, not blinking, all the wieght is on my left foot because I was in the middle of a step. A cool breeze blows in from the open window, curls around my leg making my skin sprout goosebumbs as the wet flesh is chilled.

Not as much as that cold point that just dropped in my stomach.

"W..what?" I stammer out.

Willow raises her head. Her features are set, quiet. Relaxed even. Almost totally composed. Like she looks when she's studying, well, with all the dried blood still covering her features she'd have to have been studying some biology experiment. When she's studying water isn't coursing down her face. Tears actually, but she's not crying. Crying means sobs, and gasps, and eyes squelched shut, legs shaking, body shaking. Heart pounding in your chest and being very, very cold.

She isn't any of these things. Looking calm, and peaceful. A calm and peaceful person who just happens to have a very wet face. She's not crying. Willow's leaking. Leaking water that's leaving muddy, rusty tracks through the bloody facemask. Water mixed with blood slides down her cheeks, hangs from the tip of her chin and splashes silently on her dress.

She..she should.. It'll stain.

"I'm not stupid." She repeats looking me right in the face.

"No..one thinks you are..." I reply slowly. I back away and bump into the edge of my own mattress. I don't sit down. A stronger breeze makes the curtains over the window billow out and the blinds rattle.

"They do." Willow says still looking right at me. "They do think I'm stupid. They think they can lie to me, pretend to forget everything that happened on a terrible and glorious evening. They think that telling me they don't remember will put the genie back in the box. They think they can hurt me terribly, and I won't notice. So," she pauses and takes a deep breath. "They must think I'm stupid. I don't know why though."

She finally breaks eye contact, I feel like someone just stopped throttling me.

She rests her head back on her knees.

Well, that dress is toast.

"It's very confusing." She says clearly audiable. "I'm not sure what hurts more. The fact that they think I'm stupid, or that fact that I don't know why they think I'm stupid."

She's quiet for a moment. My stomach has clenched into a tight, acid filled, cold ball. A bottomless, acid filled, cold ball.

"So tell me then." Her voice...is flat and neutral. Carefully, selected. And it echoes around the room. "Why do you think I'm stupid Buffy?"

"I..." My jaw snaps shut all by itself. Panic rules the day.

No. No no no no nonononononononoo...

What gave me away..? What did I do wrong? I ..didn't want to hurt you Willow. I didn't want to hurt anybody! Protect. That's all. Just wanted to protect...keep safe. Arms distance. Things the way they were. Good then, things were good then. Safe then, safe and good. Couldn't we go back to that? I just wanted things to go back to that.

Keep you safe. Keep me safe. Keep us safe. That's all. Really that's all. I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry Willow. Please..please believe me..please...I'll make it up to you. I'll do anything you want, just one more chance, please, I'm sorry.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, don't go..don't go. Please don't go. I can't lose you. Not you Willow. Oh please...no. God no. No no no no no.

That's what I think.

"I..don't know what you're talking about." Is what I actually say.

Willow's head snaps up and her eyes lock on mine. Her cheeks are smeared with crimson streaks. The blood, having been soaked by the..water has turned bright red again. It got wiped away, a lot of it, most of it is all over her dress now... not all. The pale skin of her cheeks is more visible but she's flushed and the red of the blood on the inside with the still blood on the outside... I try not too, my neck muscles turn of their own violition and I look away.

I'm studying the corner of the room, where two walls and the ceiling meet, I can feel her eyes still boring into me from across the room.

Wow, that corner needs dusting.

"Okay." Willow says quietly. I hear her feet hit the floor and see her, out of the corner of my eye, walking across the room. Really dusty that corner.

I hear the doorknob latch and the squeak of hinges as the door is swung open.

"Get out." Willow says just as quietly as before.

That gets my attention. I look at her. She's standing beside the open door, arms crossed over her chest, she's not glaring at me. There's no sign of anger or hate. She still looks quiet calm, her eyes don't even look sad, though they're still leaking.

I stammer out a half laugh. "W...Willow, c'mon." I giggle a bit. "I..don't know what happened last night, except from what you told me and..."

"Shut up."

Willow has never told me to shut up. I hear this little echo, a slight pinging sound like metal under stress starting to part. It's inside my head.

"W..w..wha..?" I start. She interupts me.

"Faith was a murderous, evil, skanky bitch." Willow overrides my sputters. "At least she was honest with herself though."

"O..okay Willow, jokes over now..." I try again. Part of my mind is screaming at me, telling me to shut the hell up, to tell her the truth, that I'm just making it worse but I don't listen. I never do.

"I told you I loved you last night." Willow says. "Not friend love, love love. I said I loved you, I offered you my heart and you accepted it. You said you loved me back. We kissed." Her voice drifts away for a second, a small smile tugging at her lips. She's not looking at me anymore, she's looking through me. Remembering.

"We kissed." She murmers. "It was wonderful. That's how I got the blood on my face. Not because you sniffed my neck; you told me you loved me and kissed me. You remember that don't you."

"Okay..jokes over.." I try and smile, there's another slightly louder screech of metal being forced in my head. "Kissed? Us? C'mon Willow that's just...wow. Major wiggins give-"

"Don't you dare say that!" She's in my face, screaming in my face. Now she is crying. Screaming through, no sobs. Tears and screaming words. I scramble backwards onto my bed, trying to get some space between us but she follows after me, I'm pinned between the wall and Willow.

"Don't you use that word." She hisses at me. Her lips are so close. I could just twitch my head and we'd be kissing again. I remember it; our kiss from last night. It was wonderful.

"That's my word." She snarls. "Wiggins is my word. I made it up, I used in high school, you just plagerised it. It's my word, my invention. Don't you dare say, you no longer have the right!"

Bend, screech, twist, shatter...roar of truimph, or release. It's free. Oh God...it's free.

And now I'm crying. My hand of it's own violition tries to reach up to cup her face but she slaps it away.

"I..I'm sorry." I burble. "I d-didn't want too."

"What did you want Buffy? I gave you everything, what more could you possibly want?" I can't see her face. The ...water..something in my eyes is..just a red ..blur. Right there in front of me.

A voice, flat, red..and flashes of green. That's all I can see.

"I..I...wanted..wanted to be .." I try and get some more space between her and me. Pushing against the wall. The plaster begins to crack.

Willow's hands are on my face an instant later. Restraining me, as if...Willow couldn't stop me from doing what I wanted. Yet, now, I can't move. The sensation, soft..so soft. Electric ..I ..I can't help myself..can't...do anything but..lean..

Her touch hardens, she's wiping away my tears with her fingers. Mechanically, in a brisk, effecient manner.

"So you can see me." She explains still cleaning my face. "You have to be able to see me."

I don't want..can't..see. Don't wanna see. Can't see.

Hurts.

I can't escape.

The back of my head hits the wall with a soft 'thump'.

I can see her now. Willow crouches in front of me on my bed. Between my legs on her knees. Her fingertips brush against my cheek one last time. The sensation, despite the set of her face, the stillness in her eyes, is one I can't help but savor.

"Willow-" I croak.

"No." She cuts me off leaning back and putting her hands in her lap. "You havn't answered my question. What do you want?"

"I ..I don't know."

"That's not a good enough answer Slayer." The word, the title of what I do lashes across me. She didn't hiss the word, or snarl she just said it and it's like a whip; an accusation. She takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment and then releases it with an audiable sigh. "Tell me what you wanted. Tell me about that desire that was so strong and powerful that you were willing to betray me. To stab me in the back."

"I didn't stab you." I protest feebly.

"But you did." She counters. "You thought about it. You planned it. You premeditated on your actions Buffy. You chose to hurt me. For what?"

She leans foward slowly as she speaks, the words are calm again. She has control of herself and of me and as her lips, I can't stop watching her lips move and shape the words, get closer and closer to me my breathing catches in my throat.

"What do you want...Slayer?" She whispers in my ear.

"To be safe!" I scream and then I can't stop talking.

"Safe, I just want to be safe. I want things simple! Just..be someone like everyone else! I can't do that though can I? I have to be some defender, some stupid bitch who was chosen, yay look at me Willow! I won some fucking cosmic lottery!" I wave my hands in the air, a deeply sarcastic cheering gesture.

"I get to live every single night terrified out of my mind," I continue. I do what I can though, put the best face foward then. I fall in love, but whoops! That doesn't work out because he's dead. He's a vampire. Lucky me. I do stupid things, stick with him anyway. Then I get to kill him. That at least should have been easy what with him turned into a monster but no, I don't even get that. He comes back, right before I can do the deed he comes back. So I get to look him right in the eyes, seeing everything I cared about die in front of me. By my hand Willow! By MY hand!"

I slide down the wall, curling up fetal. Knees to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs. I keep talking.

"I got over that, I dealt and moved on. I always thought I was better than them. Yes they were ridgy, fangy, slimly bloody monsters but not me! Not the Slayer! I used weapons, I was effecient and clean. Until last night."

I can't help the wail that slips past my lips. I feel like I want to throw up.

"I wake up this morning and the first thing I see is my hands. They're just coated in blood. You know what my first thought is though? Not 'how'd that happen?' or 'Gosh, I'd better wash my hands' no. Not anything like that. The first thing that pops into my head when I see my bloody hands is 'I wonder what it must taste like!' Do you understand me Willow? I wanted to drink that blood! I did drink it, I licked it off my lips and I liked it!"

I clench my teeth against the mixed wave of desire and nausea that assults my stomach. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.

I'm not looking at her as I'm ranting. All I can see are those wierd loops and whirls and spiral in front of your eyes if you press your hands over them. They're kinda funny and fun to watch; you give yourself a headache if you do it too long. I don't care though. I keep my palms pressed over my eyes and I keep talking...screaming..whatever.

"You said you didn't care, fine. I do though. I can't take the risk of losing you. We fall in love, we kiss, go out on dates, laugh, have good times and then one evening...just one time I slip and bang you're gone. And I have to either live without you or track you down and destroy whatever it was that took you from me! To hunt you like a beast and look you right in the eyes as I ...whatever. Shove a stake through your chest, shoot you with a crossbow, cut your head off with an axe. Who knows. I can't take the chance of losing you like that. I can't...I love you too much to .. oh God Willow I'm sorry..."

There's silence.

A long, heavy silence.

It's silence just between us though. The rest of the world doesn't respect dramatic moments.

Footsteps out in the hall, a figure stumbles past the doorway, pauses and looks in sleepily with red rimmed eyes. "Coffee" He's muttering. "Coffee."

The footstep recede.

"You're safe Buffy." Willow says quietly. She's far away. Very far away. "You won't lose me to the forces of evil, or vampyness or anything like that. I promise." I expect to feel her gentle hands carressing me. Some sort of physical act of forgiveness. That's what happens in the movies. I wait and wait and wait. She doesn't touch me.

She pauses, I'm still wheeping into my hands, can't look at her, won't look at her. Just crying and crying and crying and crying...

"I just want to be normal." I sob. "Go to school, be with friends, meet the love of my life, get married, get a job. Have two point five kids. I've always wanted a point five kid."

Willow continues speaking, as if I never said anything. "I told you I didn't care. I meant it. You were so scared of a possibility that you chose, over it, a certainty. No, you won't lose me through anything evil, at least by anything Hellmouthy. You won't lose me like that because you've already lost me Buffy."

No.

I didn't want this. Just..normal. I just wanted normal. This isn't fair. Why can't I have normal?

"Willow-" I can't.. everything is working so clear. I can see, smell, hear, feel.

The light, morning light, small motes of dust swirling in the air. The itchy material of my blanket. It was never itchy before, why is it itchy now? The cold wall pressed into my back. My foot tap, tap, tapping madly, twitching on its own on my bed. My knee joins in the shaking. Knee and foot, shaking and tapping.

Hear people outside. Walking to the cafateria. Someone is laughing. Someone is laughing with someone else. Good friends are laughing together. Telling jokes. I can hear them.

Can ..I can smell... so clearly the...shampoo. Rinsed away most of it. Still smell it though, in my hair. I smell like apples. Green apples. Willow hasn't had a shower yet. When she does she smells... I don't know. Lived with Willow for a while now, should know what she smells like by now. Never noticed, never asked. Never get the chance.

Muscles feel so loose. So relaxed. So relaxed, I'm relaxed..almost. Heart isn't relaxed. My heart is pounding. Loud. Getting louder and faster. Hurting so fast, the hurting is ...my heart. My heart is going so fast it's hurting, or the hurting is going so fast that..my heart. My heart is leaving me. Drowning out everything. Can't hear the people anymore, the friends. Laughing friends are gone. Just my heart. Can't see the dust anymore, just can feel my heart, can't feel the blanket itching. Hurting, hurting is eating everything.

Don't go away heart, don't go away. Don't leave me, don't leave me so I can't see or feel or hear or anything. Don't go away heart, leaving me with only ...acid. Acid and my hurt.

I'm falling.

"Get your stuff packed." Willow says. "I want you out by the time I get back. I'm going to get some breakfast." The door swings shut with a quiet 'click'.

Silence is Golden.

The sunlight is making my silent air golden.

I don't want gold.

Willow?

Where did you go Willow?

Time passes, not sure how much. I'm..I'm dressed. How'd that happen? I look on my bed, which is made, I made my bed? There's my suitcase there. It's bulging with stuff. Who's stuff? Oh my stuff. That's right. Willow told me to pack, and I did.

I'm standing in the middle of the room. Between our beds. Everything looks pretty much the same. My dishes are on the counter, clock radio is ticking away the minutes, Mr. Gordo is still keeping my pillow company. Closet is empty though, dustbunnies are filling in the empty space under my bed where my suitcase used to be.

Willow can have my closet space, she..she can get some more clothes, she can use my closet space..get better ...looking clothes.

Her computer beeps. Someone sent her email. A friend sent her some email. Can I send her email?

No.

Yes?

Maybe.

A tiny click and the plastic numbers on my clock flip over to 'seven, three, oh'.

Hm.

I look at the mirror. Brush my hair one last time.

Nice, straight, even rows.

I toss the brush into the empty closet and pickup my suitcase.

Stand there for a while. Something happens maybe? If I wait something can happen maybe?

Telephone call maybe?

Friend stopping by?

Anyone stopping by?

Vampire stopping by?

Demon eating other students stopping by?

Invasion from Hell stopping by?

Anything?

Anything at all?

So I don't have to leave?

Please?

I step out into the hallway, close the door, reach for my keys. Open the door, grab my keys off the shelf, step back outside. No one is there. Empty silent hallway. Numbered doors on either side stetching the length of the hallway. Behind each one seperate worlds, worlds that change every year. Can't I stay in my world?

No.

Close the door.

Lock the door.

Grab my suitcase again, walk down the silent hall. Sunlight follows me here. From the windows at each end of the hall, sunlight beams in. Still can see those tiny, floating, carefree motes of dust.

Turn the corner. There's the stairs. They go down.

I'm falling. Inside I'm still falling.

Might as well go down then.

I almost do fall down the stairs.

I can barely see anything.

No one sees me though. Good. Alone.

The exit.

He...or she..who hesitates is lost, I'll not hesistate.

Outside now. Birds. Trees. Grass. Cars. Buses. People. Cats. Dogs. Sun. Sky.

Wish there was a vampire.

Where to go?

Mom.

I knock on the door.

A voice from inside. "Just a minute."

The door opens and she looks out at me, her face looks concnerned. Gee am I still crying? Thought I had stopped. "Buffy?"

"Hi Mom." I say.

"Buffy what's wrong?" She asks opening the door wider. "Are you alright dear?"

"Can I come in?"

Now..I know I was outside on the porch a second ago. How'd I wind up in the living room?

Oh that's right, mom invited me in. Careless Mom. What if I was a vampire?

She's sitting across from me, leaning foward, elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped together in worry.

"Buffy? Did you hear me? I asked you what happened."

"What?" I blink a few times. "Oh..nothing big. I mean, nothing big in..uh..Slayer stuff. Everybody is fine in that regard. No tragic deaths today." I smile. She flinches.

"So..why are you here then?" She doesn't move, just looks at me with mother-worry eyes.

A car drives by the picture window, grey, sedan of some sort. Kinda streamlined. Wow, they're moving awfully fast. Whoever they are should be more careful. Kids play in this area.

"Uhm..well..Willow and I kinda had this argument and..." I start.

"An argument." Mom echoes.

"Yeah." I nod. I try smiling again. Improvement. She didn't flinch.

"And you packed your bags and came home." Again she says it not as a question, but a statement.

"It was...bad?" I shrug.

"You have an argument, a fight, with your best friend and you leave your dorm. You call that bad Buffy?" Her worry look has grown, she's frowning slightly but other than that hasn't moved.

"Yeah." I nod again.

"Honey I know you don't like-" She begins.

No. She mustn't know. Mustn't learn. My problem, I'll ...No. Just no.

"Mom." I say in just that tone of voice.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" She's not asking really, more like begging. Begging me to let her be some sort of help. Can't though.

"No mom. It..was bad and it'll stay...that way." I sigh, running my fingers through my hair.

Don't break.

Don't break.

Don't break.

Break means tears, tears means pain, pain means tears, tears means talking, talking means explanations, explanations means more bad, more breaks, more pains, more tears.

Don't break.

Don't break.

Don't break.

"Actually I was hoping I could get some breakfast? I..er..didn't have a chance to eat." I say. I watch my foot, it's tapping again. Taping against the armrest of the chair. I clamp my hand over it, try and make it stop. It twitches in my grip.

Mom shakes her head. Barely noticible, just a slight movement but it says everything. Helpless, worried, scared, loving, helpless. It's all there. She shakes her head just a touch and stands up.

"Alright dear." She smiles down at me. Now I want to flinch. "I'll whip some food up. Sunny side up sound good? With bacon?"

"Yeah." I say, my foot twitches even harder. "Sunny eggs and bacon. Sounds great!"

Mom stands there for a minute. She's trying to work up the courage to say somthing, or maybe try and figure out how to be supportive. I'll let her. That way she can feel like she's helping; that's she's being 'Mom'.

While I wait some more cars drive by. A chickadee lands on the bushes outside. Looks at me with black eyes and flies off. Wind blows, the brances of the pine outside shake, a few pinecones fall out.

"Give it some time." Mom finally says. "We..you...can talk to her Monday or something. Cool down time is good right? This will work out. You'll see."

Cool down time?

I'm cold.

I smile up at her. "Okay Mom. Yeah. That'll probably work."

She walks to the kitchen.

No. Don't do that. Don't start hoping.

Too late.

I can feel it inside. A bright spot. Stubborn..hot...impatient. It's bright now. Bright and strong and it won't go away no matter how many doubts and fears I throw at it.

Where were you a few hours ago?

Monday. It says. Monday we can fix it. Monday we can say the right things, do the right things, be the right things. Just have to wait till Monday.

It won't stop. Says that over and over and over. It's just going to cause more..everything. I know it. I know it, it ..hope..knows it but it can't, won't stop.

I hear the sizzle of oil and smell the cooking bacon. Mom opens the refridgerator and then a few seconds later I can hear her open the cupboard for some glasses. I can tell, that cupboard always squeaks.

She's probably pouring some orange juice.

I do the only thing I can.

I settle down, look outside the window, and wait for Monday.

**SUNNYDALE GAZZETTE ****Sunday, October 11th, 1999**

** Local Girl Killed In Hit and Run.**

Yesterday Sunnydale was again the victim of tragedy.

Willow Rosenberg, daughter or Ira and Shiela Rosenberg was struck and

killed in an apparent case of hit and run. Witnesses state, early on the

morning of Saturday the tenth, they saw the victim crossing the street.

She was described as being 'out of it' and 'distracted' therefore did not notice

when a grey Buick Sentry came around a corner at high speeds. Despite onlookers

warnings Ms Rosenberg did not take heed and was struck head on. The car that

struck her did attempt to break beforehand but, after the impact with the victim,

drove away from the scene at high speeds before any onlookers could get

a look at the licencse plates. Witnesses describe the vehicle as being

fairly new and modern in appearence. No one interviewed claimed to recognise the car.

Paramedics pronounced Ms Rosenberg dead at the scene at 8:11 AM, Saturday

morning.

Police are asking anyone with information on the possible identity of the driver

to call them, toll free, at...

END


	2. But Eros Died

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. (Grrr...arrgh)

Warning: I offer this here and now. You know who I am(Or you should, I'm so likeable) and you know what I do(Or you should, it's so likeable) either way, I say now. The Gloves are Off.

Be prepared.

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

God is a Man

'The Devil You Know'

-Face to Face

A Sequel to-

Janus was Healed...

...But Eros Died

I wake up a long time before she does. The sun was still coming up when I was wrested away from my dreams. I always wake up early. Despite the working hours of long days and longer nights, I always wake up early. When things are really hard I blame whatever it was that chose me for this role. I think that it...they...want me to have as little peace as possible. Normalcy is not an option, relationships..the idea is laughable. They also go after any rest I might have, any escapes I might aquire from dreaming. That's what I think, they don't want me to dream much. I get just enough rest to be fully functional and then I wake up. No additional slumber, no respite. Just enough. When things are all mean and terrible I honestly believe that that's why I always wake up early. It's probably for the best, that way I don't get too attached to my dreams. It's hard to do that if you don't have many.

When things are normal, relativly, I just think I'm an early riser.

Honest.

I've woken up before her, though I haven't moved. Not an inch. A leaf was blown free from the branches about ten minutes ago and it landed on my face. It rests on my cheek right now, wobbling as small breezes flow over it, me,us. It itches but I don't move to brush it off, to scratch the itch. I just stay still. I let her sleep, as long as she doesn't wake up I don't have to do what I know is right. I can put it off, just a little longer.

If I roll my eyes as far as I can I can see the blood on her face. I'm lying fetal, with my head in her lap, the blood on my hands is hard to miss. It's sorta in my face. It's on my face too. I can't see it but I can feel it crack and flake off in the morning rays.

Blood. She's bloody. I'm bloody. We're bloody.

The tip of my tounge snakes out and I lick a bit of the dried stuff off and taste it. It, my tongue, does it by itself. I didn't mean too. Really. I don't mean to close my eyes and lick my lips a second time. I don't aknowledge the tingle running along my spin. I don't enjoy it. I really don't. I don't. Not at all.

It's blood. Stolen blood taken by ...things. Unatural, twisted mockeries of life, pantomiming the living. They don't deserve to exist they have no place here, in this world. Someone has to fight them, to destory them and that's me. I try and live, but I'm just pantomiming that like they do. I look at Willow again.

She's covered in blood too. Her face, along her jaw, smeared across her cheeks but she's smiling. Leaning against the tree, my head in her lap, eyes closed. She's smiling. I have no place in her world.

It's my fault that she's ...stained. This time she just happened to be around; what about next time? It could be them or.. Control. We have to have control. Always, always, have control. If we lose control it might not be them who makes Willow bloody; it might...

I've thought this over carefully. This is the right way, it's not the painless way because there is no such thing. It's what has to be done. I believe that. I have to.

Okay Summers. Let's do it.

C'mon.

Move.

I could let her sleep for a few minutes longer.

Just a little more time. What's the harm in that?

The sun finishes rising above the horizon. The light looks the color of peaches. Birds have woken up, starting their day. Involving food and young, and their mates. Mama bird and Papa bird, getting up together and flying around, looking for food. Food for their little ones.

A nice Disney thing. Cute family of birds.

I think I hate them.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see a squirrel poking its head out of a whole in a tree, wondering if it now is a good time to start looking for nuts and other goodies. A small pool of light has managed to work its way through the leaves in the branches. It's resting on Willow's lap. Right where my hands are too. It's warming my hands. My hands are warm in the sunlight.

My hands are warm; only my hands.

I stretch carefully, roll my head and groan just loud enough. With a grossley exagerated yawn I sit up. As I move the ground snaps and rustles, dead leaves crackling and shiftering underneath my weight. I put extra 'oomph' behind the gesture when I lean back, resting my weight on my elbows. I make sure one of them bumps into her leg in a not so subtle nudge.

"Mmmmm..." She moans and shifts her head. Her eyelashes begin to flutter and I can see her eyes moving underneath. Here it comes, we've shared a bedroom so long I know her sleeping habits like ..well..pretty well.

"Nnnoooooo.." She whines. "Don' wanna be a morning person."

Almost the same statement. Every morning. She's like clockwork.

Making sure I'm not looking at her I put my hand to my head, as if I have a headache.

"Hey." I say quietly.

"Mmm...'morning." Willow groans. "How you feeling?"

"Like I got hit with a truck. Not by, with. Somebody picked up a truck, and beat me on the head with it repeatedly. What happened last night?"

"What?" I hear her ask. I can tell, from her voice, how shocked she is. The question was breathless and weak, like someone saying something while getting punched in the gut. I grit my teeth while clenching my hands into fists. The pain of my nails biting into my palms helps me focus. I put an embarassed smile behind my response.

"I mean, what happened? Cause I don't remember a thing. Last thing I recall was..a bar I think." I sniff. "Why do I smell like a roasted marshmellow? My hands feel caked, what the heck is th-" I let my voice catch.

This part is really going to be hard. Acting surprised.

"OhMyGOD!" I shriek, holding my hands in front of my face. "This is blood? What happened? How did..did I hurt anybody? Oh God! What have I ..what's happening?"

I feel her hand on my shoulder, she's trying to comfort me.

"Buffy, shhhh..." She says quietly. I still have my back to her. Now this will be really hard.

Acting horrified.

I turn to look at her, and open my eyes real wide. Like I'm seeing her bloody face for the first time. I gotta make it look good.

"Willow." I whisper. "Your..your face...what happened?"

"What?" She says again, bringing and hand to cheek, brushing off some flakes of dried blood.

"What happened Willow?" I demand. "What..where did this all come from? My hands are coated with blood, your face...your.."

Now I brush my fingers against my lips, I feel some blood I missed crumble underneath my touch. "My..my face." I breathe. I don't try and make my voice sound trembley, that would definetly give the game away.

"I'm covered, drenched...soaked..." I take in deep breaths, wonder if I fake it too well, will I actually start hyperventilating? Would certainly lend authenticity to the performance. "...in blood."

I look at her. I look Willow in the eyes. She's hurting. She's hurting terribly, I can see it. Oh I so much want to make it better. It would be so easy, so easy to just take her in my arms, repeat the kiss from last night. We could laugh it off. Some sort of fogginess of the ol' brain cells and now I remember everything. How terrible it was, how funny it was, how...how wonderful it was. We could go back to the wonderful. We could go back to it and never leave.

No! It wouldn't be wonderful. Yes it would; but it would be taken from us. Ripped, stolen, beaten, crushed. Used against us. It's better to just let..just let..let it die. It's better.

Say that again Summers. Say that over and over again. Maybe it'll be be true eventually.

Willow is going numb. Her features are setting into her flat face. She's hiding herself. Trying to esacpe. She's gotten so good at that. I'll make it easier. I'll provide a distraction.

"Willow!" I say fiercly, slamming my palms into the tree trunk on either side of her head. "We're waking up in the middle of the woods. I look like I just ran through a butchers shop that was on fire, you look like an extra from the next Hellraiser movie. Now I don't know what's going on here-" I look away from her, I look down at my lap. I take several deep breaths, act hurt and upset. It's easy. Far easier than I thought it would be. Maybe because I am hurt and upset, though not for the reasons I'm giving. "You know what happened. Please. Please Willow. I'm scared. Tell me what happened."

I watch her carefully. I watch her blink rapildy, she's trying not to cry. Pulls it off too. I made her cry. I made her want to cry. I made Willow cry and it's all my fault and I can't even ask her to trust me, because I'm lying to her. I'm doing this all on purpose. To my best friend! To ..to..I love her.

It's better this way. No weaknesses, no worries. No..no chinks in my armour.

"Okay Buffy." she says with diffilculty. Her voice sounds husky, like something is stuck in her throat. Probably a sob. I know how she feels. "Okay. I'll tell you what happened. Sit back. This is going to take a while."

"You're okay?" I press. "I..I didn't hurt you did I?"

Her eyes start a bit. Of course I hurt her, not in the way the question implies but I hurt her. Just now. My fault. On purpose. My fault. It's for the best.

"No." She says quietly, a whisper. Her eyes flicker to her lap where her fingers are clenched together so tight her knuckles are white. I pretend not to notice.

"No you didn't hurt me." She sighs. "Okay, um... you were at that bar drinking beer with some guys..."

She tells me what happened. She tries to gloss over the vamp kills but I make her tell me everything. To explain all the blood on my face, my clothes, underneath my nails and between my teeth.

"Uh..well.." She stammers. "Those vampires? Uh.."

"I didn't have a stake did I." I say flatly. I run my fingers through the leaf cover on the ground. Taking comfort from the quiet rustle.

"No." She says almost shamefully. "You used your bare hands."

Willow twists her fingers in her lap, playing with them, studying them intently. I know why. She went through this last night. Comforting me when I had realised what I had done and been terrified by it. At the violence, at the blood, at how much I had relished every second of it. The combat, the screams, the feral, animalistic fury and purity of that act.

A tingle rushes along my spine and my tougue wants to lick my lips again in search of more blood, I can feel the urge. I fight it. There isn't any more anyway. I licked it all off. I could lick her face. That would solve all the problems. I'd love her, have her and get ..get...

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This is why I'm doing this. This is why I'm putting us through this. Because..Oh God.

"I enjoyed it."

"Well.." She stammers. Shaking her head slightly, she shrugs. "At first yeah. But not afterwards. I mean, well, you realised and were really horrified. Upset an' everything. You took off at warp speed, I had to chase you." She smiles slightly. "That wasn't easy. Thought I had busted a lung."

I smile back at her.

"So you caught up with me?" I ask.

"Mmmhmm." She nods looking away again. "At this tree. Used a little magic to track you down." She looks up the trunk. "See? You can still make out the..er...handprints where you climbed up."

She sighs again. "So I..er..found you and talked to you for a bit. Tried to calm you down, told you that you were still you. That I liked you and that it didn't matter what you did what you did. Because..well..because.."

'You love me.' My mind fills in. I try not to flinch.

"... you're my best friend!" She finishes with a horribly painted on smile. I don't notice it. I don't let myself notice it. I don't notice the forced lips pulled back over teeth, or the shimmer in her eyes. I don't..I won't.. I won't see them!

"And, well, I guess you believe me cause you came out of the tree, and..uh..well, we fell asleep." She finishes lamely. Looking back at her hands. I don't say anything for a while. We just sit in silence. Eventually she pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them.

"Cold." She mumbles from behind her knees as way of explination.

"Me too." I reply. On the inside and the outside, but I leave that part unsaid.

We sit for a while longer.

"How'd all that blood get on your face?" I ask. Finally. She jumps a bit.

"What? Oh. This?" She giggles a bit, scratching some of the dried blood off with her fingernails. "You..er..well when you came out of the tree you..uh..got kinda frisky."

"Frisky?" I open my eyes real wide and say the word slowly. Filling it with unsaid dread.

"God Willow, I didn't kiss you did I?"

"What? No no..Ha ha ha ha.." she says. She says 'ha ha ha', doesn't actually laugh. She SAYS it.

Willow.

I...

I...

"No no, of course not." Willow somehow manages to turn a sob into a hiccup. A sound being twisted sideways, forced and wrenched asunder than swallowed. "That ..that would be silly wouldn't it. You kissing me I mean. Gah, no..silly."

"Akward." I answer.

"Very." She nods studying her kneecaps. She's blinking about twice every second.

"You..uh..just pushed me over and sniffed my neck a bit." Willow says. Sliding a fingertip around and around on her kneecap. Not looking at me. Watching her finger go round and round.

"That's all Buffy. Just...just sniffed my neck a bit."

"Sniffed your neck?" I ask with a grin. I'm trying to lighten the situation. I figure if I can manage to get her going on autopilot it might hurt less. Then I realise that autopilot requires the events to have actually happened and since they didn't, it probably won't happen.

Willow smiles back at me tentativly. "Yeah. Just a little sniffin' and you curled up in my lap and went to sleep. I did too." She finishes with a shrug.

"Were you scared?" I ask her quietly.

"Of you?" Willow's brow furrows a bit. She starts biting at her lower lip, thinking. "I...think I should have been." She finally replies. "But I wasn't."

"I was ..I was some sort of bloodthirsty animal." I protest weakly. This would be so much easier if I could feel guilty about something.

She smiles at me softly and her smile reaches her eyes. "No." she smiles wider. "Not an animal, just a very thorough protector. That's why I wasn't afraid, I'll never be afraid of you."

My heart is pounding so hard and the walls over it are buckling. Love is not soft, it's hard, strong and sharp. Mine is begining to break me down, to take me over, to grab her and hold her close, kiss her, love her, be with her and I can't let that happen. I just can't. She's doing this so easily too. She doesn't even know it but just by being Willow, she's breaking me down.

I won't let this happen.

She deserves better.

I stand up and brush my pant legs off. "C'mon." I say holding out my hand to her. "There's a hot shower calling my name and I don't want to miss it."

Wordlessly she accepts my hand and I pull her to her feet, then we turn and head back for the campus.

The walk is long and silent, I let Willow act as the guide since I'm supposed to not remember how I got where I am. We take the long way home, walking around the park.

"Is that where...uh..Is that where the vamps were?" I ask pointing to one of the iron fences marking the boundries of the park.

Willow simply nods and heads off in the opposite direction expecting me to follow.

I know Willow. She...is..was? my best friend. She doesn't give her heart easily but last night she gave it to me. She didn't know how I'd respond, she didn't know whether I would respond in kind or turn my back on her. She took all the risks. Willow was incredibly brave last night and thought she had won.

Now I'm taking that away from her.

She's doing a good job of hiding it. Her back is straight, her head held high walking with a brisk, sure, step. Like everything is right with the world. The rising sun burns on the horizon in front of her, the light giving her hair a look of true flame. She pauses, stretches her arms over her head and arches her back. There's a quiet 'crick' sound of bones and muscle sliding back into place and she resumes her pace; just a little ahead of me. I think she's humming a tune.

Willow won't say anything about what happened last night. I'm sure of it. Not that she doesn't want too but she's not that brave. She did it once, she couldn't do it again. She's already lied about what really happened and that will add to her inability to say anything. Also I'm not acting in any way that could lead her to..think..that maybe..she could. Being..I'm being..good ol Buddy Buffy. There's nothing here..for...for her to see..maybe Lover Buffy.

I will not feel that tingle in my eyes. I will not aknowledge the itch behind my lids. I will not cry.

Even though I'm using what I know of her against her. Even though I'm lying right in her face, depending on her insecuritues and weaknesses in my favor. Even though I'm commiting crimes against someone I love I will not cry. I'm going to force myself to live a lie, and I will do it with a smile on my face.

Why?

The consequences of what could happen ...I.. no. There will be no such things happening; I won't let them. I'll protect her. I'll always protect her and doing these things, these monstrous things, will make it that much easier.

Yeah, that's it Slayer, justify what you're doing. C'mon, let's do it. Give it your best shot. Oh I've got one, yeah, we'll like this one. Ahem..'You love Willow so much, that you're not going to love her'.

We reach the dorms, it's still too early for anyone to be up, not that many would be with it being a saturday morning. We're careful anyway. Darting up the stairs, around the corner into our room...which looks pretty messed up.

I take in the chaos that my comunion with the wild side rought. The television knocked off the shelf, the shelf itself scattered with ...stuff. Clothes all over the floor, if those torn rags can still be considered clothes and... oh nuts.

"I'd forgotten about those." I mumble taking in my 'cave paintings'. It slips out, quiet, but slips out before I can realise I'm saying it.

Oh hell. Oh no. Oh God. Oh ..Oh...FUCK!

If she heard me, if Willow overheard, no...no she couldn't of, she's next to her bed, picking up some of my mess. Bent over, busy, humming to herself, still humming. Humming with the birds that are singing outside. The clock radio starts beeping, I jump. Willow nonchalantly reaches over and flicks it off because we're already up n'everything. She's still humming.

"You say something Buffy?" She turns and looks at me. There's ..something..no. No, just my imagination. She's speaking normally.

I force a smile to my face. I better get used to doing this. Gesturing in the direction of the 'artwork' I roll my eyes. "Nothing important. Just noticing my contributions to the art world."

She glances at the 'paintings' and than looks away. "Oh." She replies, bending back over to resume picking apart the assorted chaos.

"Yeah." I whisper to myself behind her. "Oh."

She doesn't respond.

I stare at her for a bit. She's bent over, on her knees, reaching under her bed trying to grab something. Her eyes are squeesed shut in the effort. Whatever it is is probably just out of reach. Isn't that always the way?

"Uh..listen, I'm going to grab a quick shower, get all this..uh..stuff offa me okay?" I say. I can't believe how lame I sound. Like I'm asking her for permission. I even shrug and look away from her. Not that she can see me with her eyes squeezed shut.

"Okay." She mumbles, now her teeth are clenched. "I'll just..stay here..c'mon you little..and try and get this..almost got it..sock."

I grab my toiletries, towel, bathrobe and various soaps. "So..I'll..just be right back then." I mumur heading for the door.

"Mmmhmm." Willow replies.

The water is hot and clean as it pours from the showerhead. As it runs off my body it turns red, and brown. It's still hot but no longer clean as it twirls down the drain.

I take the shower gel, squeese a dollop onto my sponge and wash my skin clean. I do it effectivly and without thought. All my thoughts are inside. Fighting. Reinforcing new walls and defenses. I cannot let the pain out. I cannot let the want out, I cannot let the need out, I cannot let the tears out. I cannot let the love out.

Lock it away. Lock it away. Lock it away now.

Music. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Yeah, think about that.

Lock it away

Lock it away

Lock it away now.

Okay, so I'm add libing. Never like them much anyway.

Now to do the hair. Dirt goes out, blood goes out, grime goes out.

Two in One shampoo. Condition and clean. How effecient.

Lie to, hurt, betray, the one person you love to protect them.

How effecient.

Okay. All done.

Rinse.

The water is hot and clean as it pours from the showerhead. As it runs off my body it stays clear; free of muck and grime and blood. It's still hot but no longer clean as it twirls down the drain.

I dry off, put on my robe. Stand in front of the mirror. Start to comb my hair. Let it drip dry today. No need to be fancy. Just going to be normal looking Buffy today. No need to make myself look extra nice. No need to surprise a special someone with extra effort on my own appearence.  
Nope. None at all.

It rattles in it's cage. Deep in my mind. Roars and screams. Claws at the bars trying to force its way free. Won't be denied, will not be refused. Primal, all powerful, destroyer of empires, heros, demons, dynasties, families, children...

No. Don't let it out. Don't aknoweldge it. Focus on the hair. Think about brushing your hair.

That's it. Easy, long, comfortable strokes. Feel the bristles on your scalp? See the straight, orderly rows in your hair. Long and straight and clean. Isn't that nice? Isn't that right?

I put the brush on the edge of the sink and look at myself.

Turn my head slowly to the left, watch my eyes follow me in the mirror. Nope, no lines there. Turn it back the other way, keep my eyes locked with my reflection. Face it directly.

Can't tell can you Mr. Mirror. Can't see the storm inside can you. Nope, all's quiet on the western front yes? No monster inside you screaming in your head is there. No feelings threatening to burst free, tear down your world. No tears ready to flood outwards and never stop. Nothing at all here is there. Just the monster in the mirror. Us.

I open my mouth. My lips part and I can feel the cool air whipping over my lips as I breath. I close it again. Don't say it. Bad to say it. Hurt more, not less. Can't say it. Won't say it.

"I love you too Willow." My reflection echoes silently back to me.

Just one. I'll say it just this once. Universe now knows. Just the universe; and her. The Monster in the mirror. If she's still there after I head out the bathroom door I don't know. It's okay though, I have my own monster on the inside.

"Okay Will. Showers all yours." I toss my wet towel with the soaps and stuff wrapped inside at my bed and delibratly miss. It hits the floor with a thud. "Clean that up later." I give it a little jump and butt bounce on my mattress. Can't force laughter. Have to practice on that. I settle for a lazy smile.

Then I notice her.

"Will?"

She's sitting in the corner, on her bed. Knees drawn to her chest, head resting on her knees. She has her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

"Willow?" I stand back up and start to cross the space between our bed. "You okay?"

"I'm not stupid." Her voice is muffled a bit by her knees but I hear her plain as day.

I freeze. Not moving, not blinking, all the wieght is on my left foot because I was in the middle of a step. A cool breeze blows in from the open window, curls around my leg making my skin sprout goosebumbs as the wet flesh is chilled.

Not as much as that cold point that just dropped in my stomach.

"W..what?" I stammer out.

Willow raises her head. Her features are set, quiet. Relaxed even. Almost totally composed. Like she looks when she's studying, well, with all the dried blood still covering her features she'd have to have been studying some biology experiment. When she's studying water isn't coursing down her face. Tears actually, but she's not crying. Crying means sobs, and gasps, and eyes squelched shut, legs shaking, body shaking. Heart pounding in your chest and being very, very cold.

She isn't any of these things. Looking calm, and peaceful. A calm and peaceful person who just happens to have a very wet face. She's not crying. Willow's leaking. Leaking water that's leaving muddy, rusty tracks through the bloody facemask. Water mixed with blood slides down her cheeks, hangs from the tip of her chin and splashes silently on her dress.

She..she should.. It'll stain.

"I'm not stupid." She repeats looking me right in the face.

"No..one thinks you are..." I reply slowly. I back away and bump into the edge of my own mattress. I don't sit down. A stronger breeze makes the curtains over the window billow out and the blinds rattle.

"They do." Willow says still looking right at me. "They do think I'm stupid. They think they can lie to me, pretend to forget everything that happened on a terrible and glorious evening. They think that telling me they don't remember will put the genie back in the box. They think they can hurt me terribly, and I won't notice. So," she pauses and takes a deep breath. "They must think I'm stupid. I don't know why though."

She finally breaks eye contact, I feel like someone just stopped throttling me.

She rests her head back on her knees.

Well, that dress is toast.

"It's very confusing." She says clearly audiable. "I'm not sure what hurts more. The fact that they think I'm stupid, or that fact that I don't know why they think I'm stupid."

She's quiet for a moment. My stomach has clenched into a tight, acid filled, cold ball. A bottomless, acid filled, cold ball.

"So tell me then." Her voice...is flat and neutral. Carefully, selected. And it echoes around the room. "Why do you think I'm stupid Buffy?"

"I..." My jaw snaps shut all by itself. Panic rules the day.

No. No no no no nonononononononoo...

What gave me away..? What did I do wrong? I ..didn't want to hurt you Willow. I didn't want to hurt anybody! Protect. That's all. Just wanted to protect...keep safe. Arms distance. Things the way they were. Good then, things were good then. Safe then, safe and good. Couldn't we go back to that? I just wanted things to go back to that.

Keep you safe. Keep me safe. Keep us safe. That's all. Really that's all. I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry Willow. Please..please believe me..please...I'll make it up to you. I'll do anything you want, just one more chance, please, I'm sorry.

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, don't go..don't go. Please don't go. I can't lose you. Not you Willow. Oh please...no. God no. No no no no no.

That's what I think.

"I..don't know what you're talking about." Is what I actually say.

Willow's head snaps up and her eyes lock on mine. Her cheeks are smeared with crimson streaks. The blood, having been soaked by the..water has turned bright red again. It got wiped away, a lot of it, most of it is all over her dress now... not all. The pale skin of her cheeks is more visible but she's flushed and the red of the blood on the inside with the still blood on the outside... I try not too, my neck muscles turn of their own violition and I look away.

I'm studying the corner of the room, where two walls and the ceiling meet, I can feel her eyes still boring into me from across the room.

Wow, that corner needs dusting.

"Okay." Willow says quietly. I hear her feet hit the floor and see her, out of the corner of my eye, walking across the room. Really dusty that corner.

I hear the doorknob latch and the squeak of hinges as the door is swung open.

"Get out." Willow says just as quietly as before.

That gets my attention. I look at her. She's standing beside the open door, arms crossed over her chest, she's not glaring at me. There's no sign of anger or hate. She still looks quiet calm, her eyes don't even look sad, though they're still leaking.

I stammer out a half laugh. "W...Willow, c'mon." I giggle a bit. "I..don't know what happened last night, except from what you told me and..."

"Shut up."

Willow has never told me to shut up. I hear this little echo, a slight pinging sound like metal under stress starting to part. It's inside my head.

"W..w..wha..?" I start. She interupts me.

"Faith was a murderous, evil, skanky bitch." Willow overrides my sputters. "At least she was honest with herself though."

"O..okay Willow, jokes over now..." I try again. Part of my mind is screaming at me, telling me to shut the hell up, to tell her the truth, that I'm just making it worse but I don't listen. I never do.

"I told you I loved you last night." Willow says. "Not friend love, love love. I said I loved you, I offered you my heart and you accepted it. You said you loved me back. We kissed." Her voice drifts away for a second, a small smile tugging at her lips. She's not looking at me anymore, she's looking through me. Remembering.

"We kissed." She murmers. "It was wonderful. That's how I got the blood on my face. Not because you sniffed my neck; you told me you loved me and kissed me. You remember that don't you."

"Okay..jokes over.." I try and smile, there's another slightly louder screech of metal being forced in my head. "Kissed? Us? C'mon Willow that's just...wow. Major wiggins give-"

"Don't you dare say that!" She's in my face, screaming in my face. Now she is crying. Screaming through, no sobs. Tears and screaming words. I scramble backwards onto my bed, trying to get some space between us but she follows after me, I'm pinned between the wall and Willow.

"Don't you use that word." She hisses at me. Her lips are so close. I could just twitch my head and we'd be kissing again. I remember it; our kiss from last night. It was wonderful.

"That's my word." She snarls. "Wiggins is my word. I made it up, I used in high school, you just plagerised it. It's my word, my invention. Don't you dare say, you no longer have the right!"

Bend, screech, twist, shatter...roar of truimph, or release. It's free. Oh God...it's free.

And now I'm crying. My hand of it's own violition tries to reach up to cup her face but she slaps it away.

"I..I'm sorry." I burble. "I d-didn't want too."

"What did you want Buffy? I gave you everything, what more could you possibly want?" I can't see her face. The ...water..something in my eyes is..just a red ..blur. Right there in front of me.

A voice, flat, red..and flashes of green. That's all I can see.

"I..I...wanted..wanted to be .." I try and get some more space between her and me. Pushing against the wall. The plaster begins to crack.

Willow's hands are on my face an instant later. Restraining me, as if...Willow couldn't stop me from doing what I wanted. Yet, now, I can't move. The sensation, soft..so soft. Electric ..I ..I can't help myself..can't...do anything but..lean..

Her touch hardens, she's wiping away my tears with her fingers. Mechanically, in a brisk, effecient manner.

"So you can see me." She explains still cleaning my face. "You have to be able to see me."

I don't want..can't..see. Don't wanna see. Can't see.

Hurts.

I can't escape.

The back of my head hits the wall with a soft 'thump'.

I can see her now. Willow crouches in front of me on my bed. Between my legs on her knees. Her fingertips brush against my cheek one last time. The sensation, despite the set of her face, the stillness in her eyes, is one I can't help but savor.

"Willow-" I croak.

"No." She cuts me off leaning back and putting her hands in her lap. "You havn't answered my question. What do you want?"

"I ..I don't know."

"That's not a good enough answer Slayer." The word, the title of what I do lashes across me. She didn't hiss the word, or snarl she just said it and it's like a whip; an accusation. She takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment and then releases it with an audiable sigh. "Tell me what you wanted. Tell me about that desire that was so strong and powerful that you were willing to betray me. To stab me in the back."

"I didn't stab you." I protest feebly.

"But you did." She counters. "You thought about it. You planned it. You premeditated on your actions Buffy. You chose to hurt me. For what?"

She leans foward slowly as she speaks, the words are calm again. She has control of herself and of me and as her lips, I can't stop watching her lips move and shape the words, get closer and closer to me my breathing catches in my throat.

"What do you want...Slayer?" She whispers in my ear.

"To be safe!" I scream and then I can't stop talking.

"Safe, I just want to be safe. I want things simple! Just..be someone like everyone else! I can't do that though can I? I have to be some defender, some stupid bitch who was chosen, yay look at me Willow! I won some fucking cosmic lottery!" I wave my hands in the air, a deeply sarcastic cheering gesture.

"I get to live every single night terrified out of my mind," I continue. I do what I can though, put the best face foward then. I fall in love, but whoops! That doesn't work out because he's dead. He's a vampire. Lucky me. I do stupid things, stick with him anyway. Then I get to kill him. That at least should have been easy what with him turned into a monster but no, I don't even get that. He comes back, right before I can do the deed he comes back. So I get to look him right in the eyes, seeing everything I cared about die in front of me. By my hand Willow! By MY hand!"

I slide down the wall, curling up fetal. Knees to my chest, arms wrapped around my legs. I keep talking.

"I got over that, I dealt and moved on. I always thought I was better than them. Yes they were ridgy, fangy, slimly bloody monsters but not me! Not the Slayer! I used weapons, I was effecient and clean. Until last night."

I can't help the wail that slips past my lips. I feel like I want to throw up.

"I wake up this morning and the first thing I see is my hands. They're just coated in blood. You know what my first thought is though? Not 'how'd that happen?' or 'Gosh, I'd better wash my hands' no. Not anything like that. The first thing that pops into my head when I see my bloody hands is 'I wonder what it must taste like!' Do you understand me Willow? I wanted to drink that blood! I did drink it, I licked it off my lips and I liked it!"

I clench my teeth against the mixed wave of desire and nausea that assults my stomach. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.

I'm not looking at her as I'm ranting. All I can see are those wierd loops and whirls and spiral in front of your eyes if you press your hands over them. They're kinda funny and fun to watch; you give yourself a headache if you do it too long. I don't care though. I keep my palms pressed over my eyes and I keep talking...screaming..whatever.

"You said you didn't care, fine. I do though. I can't take the risk of losing you. We fall in love, we kiss, go out on dates, laugh, have good times and then one evening...just one time I slip and bang you're gone. And I have to either live without you or track you down and destroy whatever it was that took you from me! To hunt you like a beast and look you right in the eyes as I ...whatever. Shove a stake through your chest, shoot you with a crossbow, cut your head off with an axe. Who knows. I can't take the chance of losing you like that. I can't...I love you too much to .. oh God Willow I'm sorry..."

There's silence.

A long, heavy silence.

It's silence just between us though. The rest of the world doesn't respect dramatic moments.

Footsteps out in the hall, a figure stumbles past the doorway, pauses and looks in sleepily with red rimmed eyes. "Coffee" He's muttering. "Coffee."

The footstep recede.

"You're safe Buffy." Willow says quietly. She's far away. Very far away. "You won't lose me to the forces of evil, or vampyness or anything like that. I promise." I expect to feel her gentle hands carressing me. Some sort of physical act of forgiveness. That's what happens in the movies. I wait and wait and wait. She doesn't touch me.

She pauses, I'm still wheeping into my hands, can't look at her, won't look at her. Just crying and crying and crying and crying...

"I just want to be normal." I sob. "Go to school, be with friends, meet the love of my life, get married, get a job. Have two point five kids. I've always wanted a point five kid."

Willow continues speaking, as if I never said anything. "I told you I didn't care. I meant it. You were so scared of a possibility that you chose, over it, a certainty. No, you won't lose me through anything evil, at least by anything Hellmouthy. You won't lose me like that because you've already lost me Buffy."

No.

I didn't want this. Just..normal. I just wanted normal. This isn't fair. Why can't I have normal?

"Willow-" I can't.. everything is working so clear. I can see, smell, hear, feel.

The light, morning light, small motes of dust swirling in the air. The itchy material of my blanket. It was never itchy before, why is it itchy now? The cold wall pressed into my back. My foot tap, tap, tapping madly, twitching on its own on my bed. My knee joins in the shaking. Knee and foot, shaking and tapping.

Hear people outside. Walking to the cafateria. Someone is laughing. Someone is laughing with someone else. Good friends are laughing together. Telling jokes. I can hear them.

Can ..I can smell... so clearly the...shampoo. Rinsed away most of it. Still smell it though, in my hair. I smell like apples. Green apples. Willow hasn't had a shower yet. When she does she smells... I don't know. Lived with Willow for a while now, should know what she smells like by now. Never noticed, never asked. Never get the chance.

Muscles feel so loose. So relaxed. So relaxed, I'm relaxed..almost. Heart isn't relaxed. My heart is pounding. Loud. Getting louder and faster. Hurting so fast, the hurting is ...my heart. My heart is going so fast it's hurting, or the hurting is going so fast that..my heart. My heart is leaving me. Drowning out everything. Can't hear the people anymore, the friends. Laughing friends are gone. Just my heart. Can't see the dust anymore, just can feel my heart, can't feel the blanket itching. Hurting, hurting is eating everything.

Don't go away heart, don't go away. Don't leave me, don't leave me so I can't see or feel or hear or anything. Don't go away heart, leaving me with only ...acid. Acid and my hurt.

I'm falling.

"Get your stuff packed." Willow says. "I want you out by the time I get back. I'm going to get some breakfast." The door swings shut with a quiet 'click'.

Silence is Golden.

The sunlight is making my silent air golden.

I don't want gold.

Willow?

Where did you go Willow?

Time passes, not sure how much. I'm..I'm dressed. How'd that happen? I look on my bed, which is made, I made my bed? There's my suitcase there. It's bulging with stuff. Who's stuff? Oh my stuff. That's right. Willow told me to pack, and I did.

I'm standing in the middle of the room. Between our beds. Everything looks pretty much the same. My dishes are on the counter, clock radio is ticking away the minutes, Mr. Gordo is still keeping my pillow company. Closet is empty though, dustbunnies are filling in the empty space under my bed where my suitcase used to be.

Willow can have my closet space, she..she can get some more clothes, she can use my closet space..get better ...looking clothes.

Her computer beeps. Someone sent her email. A friend sent her some email. Can I send her email?

No.

Yes?

Maybe.

A tiny click and the plastic numbers on my clock flip over to 'seven, three, oh'.

Hm.

I look at the mirror. Brush my hair one last time.

Nice, straight, even rows.

I toss the brush into the empty closet and pickup my suitcase.

Stand there for a while. Something happens maybe? If I wait something can happen maybe?

Telephone call maybe?

Friend stopping by?

Anyone stopping by?

Vampire stopping by?

Demon eating other students stopping by?

Invasion from Hell stopping by?

Anything?

Anything at all?

So I don't have to leave?

Please?

I step out into the hallway, close the door, reach for my keys. Open the door, grab my keys off the shelf, step back outside. No one is there. Empty silent hallway. Numbered doors on either side stetching the length of the hallway. Behind each one seperate worlds, worlds that change every year. Can't I stay in my world?

No.

Close the door.

Lock the door.

Grab my suitcase again, walk down the silent hall. Sunlight follows me here. From the windows at each end of the hall, sunlight beams in. Still can see those tiny, floating, carefree motes of dust.

Turn the corner. There's the stairs. They go down.

I'm falling. Inside I'm still falling.

Might as well go down then.

I almost do fall down the stairs.

I can barely see anything.

No one sees me though. Good. Alone.

The exit.

He...or she..who hesitates is lost, I'll not hesistate.

Outside now. Birds. Trees. Grass. Cars. Buses. People. Cats. Dogs. Sun. Sky.

Wish there was a vampire.

Where to go?

Mom.

I knock on the door.

A voice from inside. "Just a minute."

The door opens and she looks out at me, her face looks concnerned. Gee am I still crying? Thought I had stopped. "Buffy?"

"Hi Mom." I say.

"Buffy what's wrong?" She asks opening the door wider. "Are you alright dear?"

"Can I come in?"

Now..I know I was outside on the porch a second ago. How'd I wind up in the living room?

Oh that's right, mom invited me in. Careless Mom. What if I was a vampire?

She's sitting across from me, leaning foward, elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped together in worry.

"Buffy? Did you hear me? I asked you what happened."

"What?" I blink a few times. "Oh..nothing big. I mean, nothing big in..uh..Slayer stuff. Everybody is fine in that regard. No tragic deaths today." I smile. She flinches.

"So..why are you here then?" She doesn't move, just looks at me with mother-worry eyes.

A car drives by the picture window, grey, sedan of some sort. Kinda streamlined. Wow, they're moving awfully fast. Whoever they are should be more careful. Kids play in this area.

"Uhm..well..Willow and I kinda had this argument and..." I start.

"An argument." Mom echoes.

"Yeah." I nod. I try smiling again. Improvement. She didn't flinch.

"And you packed your bags and came home." Again she says it not as a question, but a statement.

"It was...bad?" I shrug.

"You have an argument, a fight, with your best friend and you leave your dorm. You call that bad Buffy?" Her worry look has grown, she's frowning slightly but other than that hasn't moved.

"Yeah." I nod again.

"Honey I know you don't like-" She begins.

No. She mustn't know. Mustn't learn. My problem, I'll ...No. Just no.

"Mom." I say in just that tone of voice.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" She's not asking really, more like begging. Begging me to let her be some sort of help. Can't though.

"No mom. It..was bad and it'll stay...that way." I sigh, running my fingers through my hair.

Don't break.

Don't break.

Don't break.

Break means tears, tears means pain, pain means tears, tears means talking, talking means explanations, explanations means more bad, more breaks, more pains, more tears.

Don't break.

Don't break.

Don't break.

"Actually I was hoping I could get some breakfast? I..er..didn't have a chance to eat." I say. I watch my foot, it's tapping again. Taping against the armrest of the chair. I clamp my hand over it, try and make it stop. It twitches in my grip.

Mom shakes her head. Barely noticible, just a slight movement but it says everything. Helpless, worried, scared, loving, helpless. It's all there. She shakes her head just a touch and stands up.

"Alright dear." She smiles down at me. Now I want to flinch. "I'll whip some food up. Sunny side up sound good? With bacon?"

"Yeah." I say, my foot twitches even harder. "Sunny eggs and bacon. Sounds great!"

Mom stands there for a minute. She's trying to work up the courage to say somthing, or maybe try and figure out how to be supportive. I'll let her. That way she can feel like she's helping; that's she's being 'Mom'.

While I wait some more cars drive by. A chickadee lands on the bushes outside. Looks at me with black eyes and flies off. Wind blows, the brances of the pine outside shake, a few pinecones fall out.

"Give it some time." Mom finally says. "We..you...can talk to her Monday or something. Cool down time is good right? This will work out. You'll see."

Cool down time?

I'm cold.

I smile up at her. "Okay Mom. Yeah. That'll probably work."

She walks to the kitchen.

No. Don't do that. Don't start hoping.

Too late.

I can feel it inside. A bright spot. Stubborn..hot...impatient. It's bright now. Bright and strong and it won't go away no matter how many doubts and fears I throw at it.

Where were you a few hours ago?

Monday. It says. Monday we can fix it. Monday we can say the right things, do the right things, be the right things. Just have to wait till Monday.

It won't stop. Says that over and over and over. It's just going to cause more..everything. I know it. I know it, it ..hope..knows it but it can't, won't stop.

I hear the sizzle of oil and smell the cooking bacon. Mom opens the refridgerator and then a few seconds later I can hear her open the cupboard for some glasses. I can tell, that cupboard always squeaks.

She's probably pouring some orange juice.

I do the only thing I can.

I settle down, look outside the window, and wait for Monday.

**SUNNYDALE GAZZETTE ****Sunday, October 11th, 1999**

** Local Girl Killed In Hit and Run.**

Yesterday Sunnydale was again the victim of tragedy.

Willow Rosenberg, daughter or Ira and Shiela Rosenberg was struck and

killed in an apparent case of hit and run. Witnesses state, early on the

morning of Saturday the tenth, they saw the victim crossing the street.

She was described as being 'out of it' and 'distracted' therefore did not notice

when a grey Buick Sentry came around a corner at high speeds. Despite onlookers

warnings Ms Rosenberg did not take heed and was struck head on. The car that

struck her did attempt to break beforehand but, after the impact with the victim,

drove away from the scene at high speeds before any onlookers could get

a look at the licencse plates. Witnesses describe the vehicle as being

fairly new and modern in appearence. No one interviewed claimed to recognise the car.

Paramedics pronounced Ms Rosenberg dead at the scene at 8:11 AM, Saturday

morning.

Police are asking anyone with information on the possible identity of the driver

to call them, toll free, at...

END


	3. Yet The Walls of Terminus Were Sundered

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.(Grrr..arrgh)

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents

A Mad-Hamlet Production

A sequel to '...But Eros Died'

Yet the Laws of Terminus Were Sundered

The ground here is always ashes. The sky itself is ashes.

The only things of note here are The Road and The Door.

That was until recently.

A short time ago a girl came. She did not walk The Road and go to The Door. She sat by the side, in the ashes, put her head in her hands and nothing else. I've watched her since then. Sometimes she lifts her head and looks around forlornly, before going back to watching the insides of her hands.

Most of the time, when she is not looking about, she cries.

She's not the only one here of course. I'm always busy. Others come and walk The Road to The Door and then vanish forever. They don't see the girl, and she doesn't see them. This is because I wish it so as they do not have buisness with her, nor she with them.

She waits.

I know what she waits for, there is little I do not know. I know how much every tree grows in a day, I know all the directions the wind takes, I know all the patterns of the waves in all the seas.

So of recently the status quo is now as follows: The ground of ashes, the sky of ashes, the Road, The Door and The Girl.

It's her hair that gets my attention occasionally. It's the only color here. A dark, dusky hue of red. Other than that everything around is grey. Even her skin. All that is here is Grey.

I know colors; being there at the Begining I know what they looked like fresh and new, and when I am there at the End I'll see them old. Still, having only memory and prediction is different to having them actaully be here with me.

Others are on The Road.

A group of them are coming down, among them is a young woman, her hair tied up in a bun, being all grey as most of her ilk are I do not know the color. When the redhead first arrived she too was all grey. When she stepped off The Road though, turning away from the Door, and sat down to wait, her hair became red. This newest arrival looks like all the others though: Grey, placid, accepting.

She stumbles along listlessly behind another one; an old man who's step makes him seem younger than his companion. He is practically skipping down The Road. In contrast the young woman takes one heavy step after the other. Being dragged along like something on a tether.

I've seen it all before. Some come eagerly, ready to pass beyond The Door and continue, others fear it, trying to fight against the pull though none get far. Actually that's not quite true. On rare occasions one comes along and takes a few steps toward The Door only to turn around and go back the way they came.

Wordlessly the young woman stops. Without a complaint the others behind her move around her stationary form, The Road is very wide if it has to be, and continue moving toward The Door; still being lead by the happy looking old man.

The woman doesn't move. She stares at the spot where the redhead sits. She cannot be looking at the redhead as I do not wish it so. Still, she studies that spot like she knows something should be there. She continues to stare at the space the Redhead occupies. If I allowed it, the young woman would be looking directly at the Redhead.

After a time the Redhead herself looks up and turns her eyes to the space where the young woman is standing. Again, if I allowed it, they would be seeing each other. I do not allow it, despite this they continue to stare into what is, to their eyes, empty space.

No one has spoken here in a very long time. The place is heavy with the silence yet this means nothing to the woman as she opens her mouth and speaks.

"Willow?"

I must intervene.

I enclose the woman, taking elsewhere, creating a small pocket with similar properies of the Sphere she left behind. The sky and earth are still ashes. I copy the ways of her sphere, not the appearence. Having done so her grey fades away. Her hair is a dirty blonde color. I was right.

Good.

As 'real' becomes more so other colors leech slowly back, her clothes take on real texture and appearence, her wounds start to bleed again and pain makes itself felt. She falls to her knees with a stifled groan.

I appear before her. I do not care for it very much. It is exceedingly diffilcult for me to keep a form for very long. I feel..contained..limited. Less than my self and office.

"You are Elizabeth Anne Summers." I say letting her see me.

I know how much pain she is in, I know how she died. It was violent and now, with my influence willingly lessened that aspect of her reality is reasserting itself.

"Buffy." she groans out between clenched teeth. "Friends..call..me Buffy."

"I am not your friend Elizabeth." I reply.

The pain stops, not because I care for her feelings, it's just very diffilcult to carry on a conversation if someone cannot speak. I could take what I want to know directly, it's easier this way.

She visibly relaxes as whatever agonies she had fade away; the sensations pass, her wounds still bleed.

Opening her eyes slowly she looks up at me. She studies me silently.

"Enemies call me Buffy too." she finally says.

"I am not your enemy." I say flatly.

She's silent a moment more. Still crouching on the ground, resting her knees in the ashes, she turns her gaze away from me deliberatly;an attempt at dismissal. Her attention turn to the wounds she bears. Large gashes running horizontal across her chest expose to the outside what normally is not. I watch her eyebrows raise in first horror, than curosity as she examines, for the first time, her own heart. Literally.

She pokes it.

It doesn't move.

I watch her as she examines it.

It doesn't move.

After a time she says quietly, "I'm no doctor but I'm pretty sure something like this should be fatal."

"It was." I say instantly.

She nods. Takes the news well.

She sighs. "That would mean you must be-"

"You are seeking out Willow Rosenberg." I interupt her.

Her train of thinking is shattered. I watch the thoughts in her mind splinter and flitter away into the ashes sky.

I see panic and fear, warring with love and desire. Guilt wrests control away from her. Still on her knees she sways slowly in a wind that does not exist.

I wait. I'm patient.

She licks her lips, as she forces some semblence of order upon herself.

"Do," she pauses. "Do you know where she is?"

The tone she uses is both afraid and hopeful.

"She is here." I reply. "She waited for you."

I grow tired of this form and change.

"I have watched over her." We say.

Elizabeth Summers stares at the two of us now before her. One on either side.

"She waited for me?" She asks despite our having said as much a moment before.

"Yes." We reply.

"That whole time?" she asks again.

"The period of time between her death and your own." We reply.

We are children now. We havn't taken this shape in a very long time.

"It was years though." Elizabeth Summers protests. "How could she...the..light. Why didn't she.." she flails about for a word. "Finish?"

"Time moves-" I begin from myself on her left.

"Differently here." I finish with myself on her right.

Two is good, less limiting but I still feel uncomfortable.

I surround her with many. Our voice is a chorus now.

Elizabeth Summers turns her head slowly around looking at all of my faces. My young faces, my old faces, my first faces and my last faces. She looks at them all, turning slowly on her knees, perhaps looking at what she percieves as her enemy, perhaps looking for escape. It does not matter, there is neither. We are all around her.

"The years passed instantly?" she asks hopefully.

"No." We cry. "The time between her death and your own passed like an eternity."

Shock takes the strength from her, bleeds it away. She falls, slowly, with the power lost she slides through the still air like a leaf falling. Her arms comes up to arrest her fall but they too are weak and cannot support her. The blood from her wouds still pools around her, briefly. The ashen ground is thirsty.

"An Eterinity," our chorus echoes in this shell similar to the Sphere. "Is a very long time. Imagine a ball of copper floating in a void. It is the size of your world. Every thousand years a feather falls from the void to brush against this copper orb. Think of the time it would take for that ball to be ground down to the size of a pebble."

Being more 'real' she now has regained the ability to cry. Her tears made manifest, not just a feelings locked within but now having physical expression once more. This is done so at our will, we made this pocket from her sphere and allow this. The ground drinks the tears as readily as her blood.

"Th,that's an Eternity?" She whimpers.

"That is the first day." We sing back to her.

She attempts to hide from our choir; lying in the ash, arms wrapped around her head as if to ward off what she now knows. Covering her ears, her face, her eyes, her tears. She no longer wants to feel, to hear or to see.

We take her back to The Road.

The Door is open wide now. The call is at it's strongest. Elizabeth Summers is pulled to her feet by it and takes a step toward The Door.

"No!" She screams. "No, please! She's here. Willow is here I know it, don't take me from her, don't take me from her now!"

Another step.

"Yes." I reply again, one once more. "She is here. She waits. She will join you soon. I will send her on after you."

"Willow!" Elizabeth Summers screams. Arms reaching back, reaching to where the Redhead sits, still holding her head in her hands.

"Willow I'm sorry!" Another step.

"I was scared!" The blonde girl, now grey again, calls out. "I was so scared. Scared I didn't deserve more. Scared of being more afraid. I'm sorry Willow, please!"

She wants to cry, to mourn at this percieved injustice. She cannot as I have revoked 'real' and she is once more bound, and grey, to the limitiations and demands of The Road. She can scream though.

She is nearly at the threshold, becoming more insubstantial as she nears The Door.

"I love you!" Elizabeth Summers screams.

The Redhead, Willow Rosenberg, hears her.

I did not allow this.

I watch.

She steps upon The Road.

"Buffy?" I hear her speak for the first time. She is on the road, yet her hair...

It is still red.

Neither can see the other, Willow is looking about frantically. "Buffy! Where are you?"

She is at the threshold.

"Willow!" Elizabeth Summers cries out. Her arms are reaching back, back down The Road, toward me, toward the Redhead, toward the Sphere from where they came.

Her feet carry her through The Door.

"Go." I say. "Others are waiting as well."

Her face, a mixture of terror and despair falls across the threshold gone from even my sight. Her hand reaches back and flails briefly about the air slowly being dragged through the door and across the thresh-

Willow grabs it.

I am surprised. That's never happened before. I know I certainly didn't allow it.

"No!" Willow shouts. She braces herself and pulls.

It is at The Door where my knowledge ends. What lays on the other side I am not sure. I do know it's ways though and when Elizabeth Summers begins to reamerge from it I am fairly sure that this is now how things are meant to work.

I think.

Her other hand free, still half across the threshold, her torso back on this side, while the rest of her still on the other, Elizabeth Summers reaches out and Willow takes her other hand, and pulls again.

Slowly, slowly, she emerges, her feet once again resting solidly upon The Road. They are in each others arms. Saying nothing, making no noise, or sounds. Just resting.

Behind them I see The Door swing shut. Almost. It never closes entirely. It will not. Not until I myself cross it.

They seperate and look at each other. Elizabeth Summers raises a trembling hand and lays it against Willow's cheek.

She says nothing at all.

Reaching up the Redhead covers the hand on her cheek with her own, her eyes never leaving Elizabeth Summers'.

"I forgive you." she whispers. "I love you." she adds at the end.

Elizabeth nods. My influence is complete now, they are on The Road and yet she cries. Her tears fall to rain upon the surface of The Road. The Redhead's own join in the cleansing of The Road.

Murkey grey fails where there tears fall. The clean white grows, spreading across the surface and whiping away all trace of ash. The Road is pure again. It has been a very long indeed since the last time. It will not last but in the interim...

I appear before them.

Willow looks up at me. "Hello." she says politly.

Summoning the existance of an arm and a hand I point behind them. "Go to The Door." I say.

Willow glances over her shoulder at The Door, Elizabeth Summers' head resting against her shoulder, than the Redhead turns back to look up at me.

"Why?" she asks.

That gives me pause. "It is your place now." I finally say.

Again the Redhead glances over her shoulder at The Door. "What's through there?" She finally asks.

"Endings." I reply.

She thinks about that for a moment.

"No thanks." she replies with a shrug.

I move closer to them, "You will go." I intone.

Elizabeth Summers says nothing; her arms are wrapped about Willow's waist. Head resting against the Redhead's breast, eyes shut.

I move closer still, adding more to the self to tower above the pair.

Her eyes snap open and she too looks up at me.

Intresting. I see her will fold itself out of the fractured remains that she had been a moment before. It is formidable.

"The lady said no." the blonde growls at me.

Blonde. Her hair is blonde now.

Her denim jacket is blue, her jeans a darker blue. Her boots are black and shiny, reflecting the light of The White Road. The Redhead's sweater is pink, with a red rose in the center of her chest. Her dress is a dark, cool, midnight black as well.

They are real.

I have no power over them.

I move aside.

Without a backward glance, hand in hand, the two of them march past me, and away. As their presence lessens the White begins to change back. The Road before them is still white, but as they pass by, it begins to change back to that flat, neutral grey I know so well. Soon the two of them are beyond my sight.

This is very odd.

I am curious. I have not been curious in a ... a while.

Some have come upon The Road very, very briefly and than turned away to return whence they came. Never, in my memory, has any come away from The Road and The Door after being away from their sphere for so long.

I do not know what will happen.

I am going to find out.

I move to their Sphere, where they will be when they finish walking on The Road.

I find myself in the middle of woods. At the base of a large tree I see the two of them asleep. The morning sun is at the horizon, warm light sweeps across the ground. A ground not made of ash but of yellow, red, and brown leaves that reflect the morning light back into the sky. A blue sky.

I stay and watch the two of them, alive and breathing. Elizabeth Summers rests with her head in Willow's lap. The Redhead's fingers tangled in blonde hair. Both are caked with dried blood, their faces, clothing and hands.

I watch them sleep, and breath. I watch them be alive. I watch the line of morning light slowly crawl across the leaf covered earth toward them.

With a quiet cry and a great gasping of breath the two of them awaken. Elizabeth Summers sits straight up, tearing her hands from the friendly clasp of the Redhead's fingers. If she feels any pain she doesn't protest. Willow too lurches away from the trunk, bolting to her feet eyes wide in panic.

The Redhead standing and Elizabeth Summers still sitting upon the earth they look about them. Taking in their surroundings carefully, they are afraid. They look everywhere they can, to the tree, the sky, the sun, the earth, the leaves, they see it all around them. When there is finally nowhere else to look they turn to each other.

Elizabeth Summers stands up, automantically brushing caked leaves and dirt from her clothing. Willow is clasping her hands in front of her, their eyes never leave each other.

They both speak at the same time.

"Willow I remember everything!" The blonde says forcefully.

"Don't you dare tell me your forgot." The Redhead says, shaking her finger in the blonde's face.

They pause.

"What?" Elizabeth Summers asks.

"What?" Willow asks.

Again an akward silence.

Moving as one they step into each other's embrace, their eyes closed but they know the way, the path is carved into each other. Their lips meet, hands slide up the others back to get tangled in mussed and oily hair.

A lesson then.

I borrow matter from one place and more from another. Shaping it by my will I leave my gift at their feet. Lessons work best when remembered.

Being in this sphere forces me to take a form, and that form works by rules that I do my best to ignore as they make me feel uncomfortable. Now these rules instruct this form and whisper to me.

'This is good', They tell me. 'This is right.'

It is best to go along with the rules sometimes. I do not struggle against the pull of form and rules of this Sphere.

I watch them kiss.

I smile.

So.

That's what happens when they turn from The Road and The Door. I look foward to the day when they return. I will watch for them.

Their kiss ends. They pull away slightly to look at each other in the morning light. The cool air dancing around them, causing the parts of their hair sticking up to flutter slightly.

"I.." Elizabeth starts to say. "I..had the wierdest dream Will."

"So did I." Willow replies.

One last exercise of will and my gift rolls across and, in defiance of the rules, up the slight incline they stand upon. It bumps into the blonde's foot.

"Ow." She says and glances down.

Bending over slowly she picks up my gift in a trembling hand.

"Buffy? What is it?" Willow asks, her eyebrows raised in worried curosity.

Her face pale the blond silently holds out her hand. The sunlight glistens and bounces off the shiny, polished surface of the copper ball resting in her palm.

I return to The Road and The Door. Most find their way, some do not, some return to their own Sphere, some move willingly across, others are pulled. I am there for all of them. Mostly to watch, sometimes to guide. I am there, I am always there.

In that Sphere from whence came my short time companion a year passes. Again curosity moves me and I go across to find them again. It is the day a year later. They sit in their dorm room at their college. They sit on either side of a small table in the middle of the room. Willow upon the right, Elizabeth Summers on the left. On the table, directly in the middle, resting on a small metal tripod sits the copper ball. With a trembling hand the blonde picks up a long black feather that lay in her lap. Smiling at the Redhead across from her she gently strokes the length of the feather across the surface of the copper ball once then sets the feather aside.

Willow smiles warmly and, standing up, reaches over the table with both hands to pull her other to her feet.

I leave them then.

The lesson has been learned. For the second time in my existance I have been there, not for an ending, but a begining.

A Begining.

END

Authors Notes: Terminus, like Janus and Eros, was a roman god. The God of Borders, Bounderies and Limitations in fact. Also of property. The Narrator is not Terminus.


End file.
